This week, I will be all about NYC. The biggest show will be at the Eastville Comedy Club in New York City on Wednesday, October 24 at 8:30 pm. The tickets are free but reservations are required. Email reservations@eastvillecomedy.com. Please let me know if you can make it so I can get a sense of how many people I have coming.

If you are in Washington, DC, I will put my upcoming schedule up as soon as it is ready.

Just when I thought I could not be any more of a grammar freak, I found I have a new pet peeve.

As if I didn’t already have enough. (Seriously, I am more of a collection of pet peeves and idiosyncrasies than a fully formed person.)

Now, it seems that my hatred for inappropriate apostrophe usage is being challenged for my personal biggest peeve by upstart hatred for random capitalization. Do people just not understand the difference between a capital and lowercase letters? I can forgive a child but when I see veteran newspeople doing this (a local NBC reporter had a handmade sign at Dupont Circle that had all sorts of randomness) makes me CRAZY. And if you know me, you know the LAST thing I need in my life is that. Yes, I can do crazy all on my own.

If you have met me in person, this will not surprise you. If you have read anything about me — like my LOVE of karaoke and stand-up comedy, you will not be surprised either. Everyone else, sorry.

I am an extrovert. I am also a Leo and a redhead and a New Yorker so the extrovert part should be a given (I had a boss who after working with me for over a year thought I was the opposite but he was pretty self-absorbed). When I was a kid, when I met people I would say, “Hi. I’m Alyson and I’m friendly.” Both those things were true. I suppose I would have to amend that to “Hi, I am Alyson and usually I am friendly but sometimes I am a huge bitch so watch your fucking step” now but I have just stopped announcing my intentions so casually. There should some damn mystery to me after all.

There is one other thing I used to do. Serenade people on the street. That’s right, I sang to strangers. All the time. If I was walking somewhere and someone was stopped at a light or a sign or on the side or the road or whatever, I sang to them. My favorite song to sing was — and yes, I am serious and no I have no idea why I picked this song, Huey Lewis‘ “If this is it.”

I’ve been phoning night and morning I heard you say “tell him I’m not home” Now you’re confessing, But I’m still guessing I’ve been your fool for so so long Girl don’t lie, just to save my feelings Girl don’t cry, and tell me nothing’s wrong Girl don’t try to make up phony reasons I’d rather leave than never believe

Now, thanks to Glee, I have rediscovered my love of song (and despite the people who at karaoke who SWORE my voice is “good” I am aware of how loosely I am using that term). It started with me screeching along to the show. It continued with me doing karaoke — totally sober — it is not fair to the universe to keep my serious gift of song to myself and the people lucky enough to live near me. Now I may be on the verge of taking this a little too far. Not that the idea of “taking something too far” has ever stopped me from doing anything so there is little to suggest this will be any different. I have found myself singing along to my iPod. I am sure that makes me look all too sane on the street because that’s where I do it. All the time.

To indulge my extroverted nature even more, I am going to start working (playing?) with a local performance art group — Cloudism — I am going to suggest we do a flash mob thing with song à la Glee. Like maybe we get musicians to join in and we just start singing Don’t stop believing to unsuspecting people in Dupont Circle or on the Mall?

Just don’t be surprised if a strange redhead serenades you in Washington, DC or NYC. It might happen. But don’t worry. I don’t bite.